


Cold Feet, Cold Case, Warm Hearts

by ncruuk



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/F, imported from LJ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-05
Updated: 2008-07-12
Packaged: 2018-10-16 21:12:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10579572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncruuk/pseuds/ncruuk





	1. Chapter 0 - part 1 (SVU)

**[2 Weeks Later]**

“How’s your knee?” asked Alex, entering the bedroom wrapped in a towel.

 

“A little stiff…how’s the shower?” counter-questioned Olivia, smirking when she saw her lover’s appearance.

 

“Great…but the towels are pointless…” griped Alex, not at all good-naturedly as she walked across the hotel bedroom to sit on the edge of the bed, next to her lover’s reclining form.

 

“It is a little…” Olivia paused to consider what adjective she should use, only to be beaten to the verbal punch by Alex,

 

“Impractical? Indecent? Unnecessary?” offered the blonde, clasping the edge of the towel to ensure that it didn’t fall open now that she was sitting.

 

“Sexy…but you have a point…” agreed Olivia, looking at the clock on the bedside table, which she’d carefully spent ten minutes reprogramming to ensure that they weren’t woken at 5am by a Country and Western station.

 

“What time are we expected?” asked Alex, reluctantly but deliberately standing up and walking away from the bed, towards the closet. Her lover looked far too good lying on the bed wearing running shorts and a t shirt.

 

“After 9…something about needing to start the shift first…” explained Olivia, absently noting to herself how the scars on the back of Alex’s shoulder were barely visible now and, most importantly, celebrating that Alex herself no longer sub consciously tried to shield them from Olivia’s view when she walked around partially clothed – it was a confidence Alex had had now for many, many months, but even now, whenever Olivia noticed, it caused the detective to have a brief moment of private, joyous celebration.

 

“That’s going to take some getting used to…” mused Alex quietly as she considered what she should wear, before going with what was comfortable – a suit.

 

“What is?” asked Olivia, content to converse with Alex’s rear view which, when only clad in a too short white cotton towel…when she was wearing the towel, Olivia was quick to agree that yes, hotel towels were always stupidly small; when Alex was wearing the towel however…it was a view that could only be bettered by…

 

“Working night shifts, that’s going to take some getting used to…” explained Alex as, outfit selected, she dropped the towel and began to dress, inadvertently terminating Olivia’s concentration on their conversation.

 

“Uh huh…”

 

“You must have worked nights…proper nights I mean, when you were in uniform?” continued Alex, unaware that she was actually now conducting a monologue, and not a conversation.

 

“Uh huh…” Olivia’s uncharacteristic second non-comment prompted Alex to turn around and look at her lover, all the while finishing dressing by pulling on and fastening her skirt.

 

“Were you paying attention?” she questioned sharply, having a very good idea from her lover’s sheepish expression that no, she hadn’t.

 

“Yes…”

 

“Yes what?” asked Alex, reaching for her shirt, hoping that her own face wasn’t nearly as transparent to Olivia as the detective’s was right now.

 

“Yes I was paying attention…” admitted Olivia, hoping she didn’t look too disappointed when Alex buttoned up her shirt and deliberately tucked it into her skirt.

 

“I’m sure you were…” agreed Alex, smiling patiently at her lover before turning her back once more to Olivia, before asking in an all too smug tone, “…but to what?”

 

“You…” When it came to friendly verbal sparring matches, Alex was the undisputed champion…but that didn’t stop Olivia from trying to compete…

 

“What did I ask?” asked Alex lightly, glad that, with her back to Olivia, her lover was unable to see the broad grin she was currently sporting.

 

“Umm…” Try as she might, Olivia couldn’t even begin to guess what it was her lover might have asked her.

 

“You weren’t listening, were you?” asked Alex, finally deciding to take her lover out of her misery and let her off the hook.

 

“Nope…” agreed Olivia, grinning at the mental image she was recalling of what she had been paying attention to…

 

“I should be mad…” declared Alex, returning to the bed and standing near enough to Olivia to be able to thread her fingers through her lover’s recently trimmed hair, earning a contented hum from Olivia, glad she’d dissuaded the stylist from cutting it too short, “…but you’re forgiven…” decided Alex kindly, softly kissing Olivia before pulling out of the kiss just as Olivia tried to turn it into something more passionate, “…just this once…” she concluded, before stepping back from her now pouting lover and crossing to snatch up the towel from the floor, intent on returning it to the bathroom.

 

“Thank you…” replied Olivia smugly, carefully sitting up, preparing to stand up and get dressed ready for going down to the Criminalistics Building. Whilst her knee was now officially ‘better’, it still wasn’t quite ‘fixed’, although it was now sufficiently strong that she no longer needed to wear the bulky brace, but she wouldn’t be chasing down the bad guys for a few more days yet.

 

“Does it hurt?” asked Alex, no longer interested in tidying up the towel, instead far more concerned with her lover’s careful progress.

 

“It’s a little stiff…” admitted Olivia quietly, concentrating on carefully bending it so she was now sitting on the edge of the bed, ready to stand. She had a cane she could use if she felt the need (or, as Alex had put it, when she should be feeling the need), but pride was determining that she would not be needing the cane within the confines of their hotel room.

 

“Are you going to use the cane when we go out?” asked Alex carefully, all too aware of her lover’s stubborn streak, but also all too aware that overworking the still healing knee wasn’t a good idea either.

 

“I wasn’t…” began Olivia, all too conscious of her reluctance to take a proper stride with her injured leg now she was standing, preferring instead to shuffle a quick half step before returning her body weight to her more comfortable left leg, “…I’ll see how I’m moving after the shower…” she conceded, finally arriving at the bathroom doorframe.

 

“I’ll order room service…” announced Alex, as much as a distraction from wanting to smother her lover by supervising her first shower since the troublesome arrest, as an actual desire for food, “…what meal should I order?” she called out, contemplating the menu and realising that everything she’d heard about Vegas being even more of a 24/7 city than New York was perfectly true, with any meal currently available. Given it had just gone 6.30, which for her body clock felt more like 9.30pm, she wasn’t sure she could face breakfast, but was it right to eat dinner?

 

“Look for a cheese plate or something…” called out Olivia helpfully, as she contemplated the plumbing, wondering, as she did so, if they could have such straightforward faucet configurations in their apartment, why she always needed a minute or two to figure out how not to scald or freeze herself when it came to using a hotel shower. Taking her lover’s advice, Alex scrutinised the menu for a few moments, before finding a page full of snacking plates, some of which made her stomach roll as she considered the amount of grease and unpleasantness in them, but she finally found a fruit platter and a cheese selection which, when combined with a bread basket, neither made her stomach turn nor her arteries scream.


	2. Chapter 0 - part 2 (CSI)

**[2 Weeks Later]**

 

Stretching languidly as she shook off the last remnants of sleep, Catherine Willows became aware of two things – her daughter was home from school, judging by the steady thumping of basketball dribbling she could hear coming from the garden, and her lover, Sara Sidle, was awake and had been for long enough to pull on a t-shirt and work through a neat stack of files.

 

“Hi…” she said, finally completing her stretch and ending up looking straight into the eyes of her amused lover.

 

“Feel better now?” asked Sara, marvelling, not for the first time, how lithe and well, feline Cat always looked when she performed her waking stretches.

 

“Much…you?”

 

“Yes, though my stomach misses its regular punch…” teased Sara, putting her files on the bedside table and regarding her blushing lover with sparkling eyes.

 

“I only did that a few times…” admitted Catherine, reaching out to caress said part of Sara’s anatomy as she eased herself up into a sitting position, remembering back to an earlier time in their relationship when, unused to sharing a bed, Catherine’s ‘morning’ stretch had consistently resulted in her hitting Sara in the stomach if the brunette had already woken, as she often had. On the rare occasions she was still asleep, Catherine hit the headboard instead.

 

“How did you sleep?” asked Catherine, a surreptitious glance at the clock revealing that she’d slept for around seven hours, a rare luxury.

 

“Well enough…” mused Sara, dismissing the comment. Given how many files moved from the bedside table ‘in’ heap to the ‘out’ heap whilst she’d been asleep, Catherine concluded Sara had probably slept for around four hours, five if she was hopeful. For the blonde, that was the bare minimum that she could manage on and still be civilised, but for Sara, whose relationship with sleep was still somewhat troubled, if the nightmares stayed away, four hours was long enough for the brunette’s eyes to clear and shadows lift from a weary face, revealing a content, relaxed Sara.

 

“Good…what time are you going in?”

 

“Soon…” muttered Sara regretfully, obviously reluctant to switch to her workplace just yet, although her mind had already been on work for some time.

 

“Oh?” Catherine didn’t think she could remember any cases that Sara was actively involved with, which was the usual reason her lover went into the labs this early.

 

“ADA Cabot and Detective Sergeant Benson arrive tonight – I won’t have much time during shift to do things…”

 

“Do you have much to do?”

 

“I was going to look at that SUV for Nick…”

 

“You mean play with your power tools…” corrected Catherine gently, recognising what Sara was up to immediately – sometimes, it was hard to know who was the teenager in her life, Lindsey or Sara!

 

“Maybe…”

 

“And therefore be greasy and dirty when the New York folks arrive…” chastised Catherine, although the sting was taken out of her words by the warmth of her smile.

 

“Oh…” Looking sheepish, Sara briefly toyed with the idea of denying Catherine’s observation, before deciding she was best to just confess, “…yup…”

 

“Has Linds been home long?” asked Catherine, diplomatically changing the subject, unwilling to torment or tease her lover any more this early in her day.

 

“About thirty minutes…she dropped her stuff in her room, went out to practise basketball and waved hello through the window when she saw I was up …” explained Sara, looking out through the French windows to the backyard, where Lindsey was carefully practising free throws.

 

“Not tempted to join her?” asked Catherine, aware of Sara’s surprising prowess with a basketball. It was a skill she’d only discovered relatively recently: during her rehabilitation she’d started playing basketball, but one that had become a very useful bond between Catherine’s lover and daughter. If they weren’t playing it, they were reviewing matches together either on Saturday afternoons or after school.

 

“She’s got her game tomorrow – it looks like she’s come home with some drills to work on…”

 

“You can tell that from here?” asked Catherine, impressed. As far as she could tell, her daughter seemed to just be running around randomly, occasionally throwing the ball at the basket which was nailed to the side of the garage.

 

“She’s on a circuit…she’s working her way out from the basket…” explained Sara, her eyes tracing Lindsey’s methodical progress through her practice, all too aware that, whilst Catherine was naturally proud of her daughter, the actual science and practice of basketball was something of a closed book to her.

 

“This is a home game, right?” asked Catherine soberly, unable to shut out the still vivid images from the massive scene they’d worked last month. Despite all her professional understanding and experience, the over-protective mother in her was not yet sure she could face her little girl travelling vast distances in school buses…at least, not this term...

 

“Yeah, 10, instead of practice…” reminded Sara, earning a groan from Catherine who realised the impact this was going to have on her sleep.

 

“Why didn’t you let me sleep longer?” she groused good naturedly, already beginning to count the hours it would be until she could sleep again and, more importantly, how few hours she would then get to sleep before the Saturday night shift…

 

“Because you woke up?” taunted Sara, looking down at her now slumping partner, earning her a gentle thump on the stomach.

 

“That’s not the point…” grumbled Catherine good-naturedly, snuggling back down into the bedding, wondering if she could catch another nap for a few minutes now. It wouldn’t do her any good in the long run, but right now was feeling potentially sinful…

 

“Oh no…” muttered Sara, turning slightly so she could better see what Catherine was up to, “…you’re not going back to sleep…”

 

“Why not?” mumbled Catherine, snuggling deeper into her warm nest, a nest that could only be improved on if she had Sara’s long body to wrap herself around.

 

“Because there are more interesting things we could be doing…” explained Sara, turning onto her side, disturbing Catherine’s carefully arranged bedding nest.

 

“There are?” Despite the seemingly innocent question, Catherine’s sparkling eyes revealed that she already had an idea as to what her lover was thinking.

 

“Yeah…there are…” agreed Sara, before showing Catherine exactly what she was thinking…

 

“Mmm…” agreed Catherine a few moments later, lips feeling thoroughly kissed, “…I do like the way you think…”

 

 


	3. Chapter 0 - part 3 (SVU)

“I didn’t hear room service…”

 

“You were enjoying your shower too much…” retorted Alex dryly, not looking up from the page of notes she was reading, before idly snagging a grape from the bunch garnishing the fruit plate she’d ordered.

 

“Ah…” A lesser woman might have blushed at the insinuation her lover was making, but fortunately, Olivia wasn’t a lesser woman, “…you know I don’t like baths….”

 

“It is a good shower…” agreed Alex, slightly regretting that she hadn’t joined Olivia for her first shower after a fortnight of enforced baths, something that, for general cleanliness, Olivia did not enjoy: for the detective, a bath was a means of relaxation, not cleansing. However, if Alex had joined Olivia in the shower it wouldn’t have been a means of cleansing either, and would have probably resulted in Olivia enthusiastically overtaxing her knee and ribs, something they would both almost certainly regret later, if not sooner.

 

“How much food did you order?” asked Olivia conversationally, surveying the large platters that were sitting on the room service trolley table that had arrived during her shower.

 

“Would you believe me if I said one cheese plate and one fruit plate?” asked Alex, looking up from her notes.

 

“I’m going to have to find the gym soon…” concluded Olivia, realising for the first time the less glamorous aspect of living in a hotel for four weeks – the food. Whilst hotel food was great during a fortnight’s vacation, there were times when the craving for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or something home cooked and simple is just too strong, especially for Olivia, who was used to having cooking as a de-stressing outlet.

 

“And maybe a kitchen…” mused Alex, wondering if they could transfer their hotel reservation to a hotel that had little kitchenettes in their suites…she was going to miss her lover’s cooking…

 

“What are you reading?” enquired Olivia, curious as to what was holding her lover’s attention but unable to see from the bed what the hand written notes were referring to.

 

“Case notes…”

 

“For the Election cases? You know those inside and out…” chastised Olivia gently, concerned that Alex was over working.

 

“The Ganson file…” admitted Alex quietly, already preparing for Olivia’s reaction.

 

“That goes to court next week…I thought you left all your notes for that with Liz Donnelly so she could instruct a new ADA…” mused Olivia, wondering what the real issue was.

 

“I know, and I did…” began Alex, only for Olivia to interrupt her lover when she realised what the issue was,

 

“Sweetheart, you’ve got to let them go…your cases…” she began, only to be cut off by a frustrated Alex,

 

“Have been given to Abbie Carmichael!”

 

“Ah…” Suddenly, Olivia understood.

 

“Don’t ‘ah’ me…” pouted Alex, tossing aside her notes in frustration, frustration at her situation, but also at her behaviour – she knew her views on Abbie were childish and silly, and she knew she should be able to professionally rise above them, but it didn’t stop the thoughts and feelings….

 

“She’s never seen me naked…” volunteered Olivia, trying to gently remind Alex that she had no reason to be insecure about that.

 

“But she’s kissed you…” protested Alex feebly, taking off her glasses and fiddling with them.

 

“I was drunk…”

 

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

 

“You told me I was a sloppy kisser when I’m drunk…” observed Olivia, trying to contain her amusement.

 

“You are…not bad, but much better when you’re concentrating,” explained Alex precisely, not seeing the point Olivia was making.

 

“So, Abbie kissed me once, a kiss which, based on your much greater experience of such things, you said wouldn’t be all that great…and I never kissed her again…” explained Olivia, carefully walking across the room so that she could sit on the arm of Alex’s armchair.

 

“I’m being silly…” recognised Alex finally, settling back into the loose embrace Olivia’s position offered her.

 

“A little…” agreed Olivia, before explaining, for what felt like the thousandth time, exactly what the admittedly slightly complex relationship between her and Abbie Carmichael had been, “…when I first came to SVU, Abbie and I were stuck together as ‘the women’. Sensitive cases, emotionally vulnerable women…we were shoved forwards and left to get on with it, which didn’t always make sense…” recalled Olivia, remembering the times when a much younger, career focused Abbie, like Alex, had perhaps not always chosen the most gentle or appropriate way of handling something, “…but she got better, with practice…” Olivia paused as mentally, she glossed over the exact circumstances of a particular case, a case that, whilst not an SVU one, had fundamentally altered the uncompromising ADA’s views on some aspects of life.

 

“She’s not the only one…” mused Alex, recognising the parallels all too easily, and grateful that her lover chose not to comment on that revelation with anything more probing than a gentle smile.

 

“Anyway…one night after beers she kissed me and I said no thanks…” admitted Olivia honestly.

 

“Said no thanks?”

 

“Ok, slurred no thanks…the point is, it was never brought up again….except by you…” pointed out Olivia kindly, pressing an affectionate kiss into Alex’s hair. Was she a bad girlfriend to be amused by her lover’s jealous streak?

 

“Why did Liz get her in to take the cases?” asked Alex, moving on from her anxiety based on Abbie’s at one time poorly concealed interest in Olivia (as girlfriend it was Alex’s right to blow that incident entirely out of proportion) to her professional anxiety.

 

“You didn’t ask her?” asked Olivia, amazed that her well connected lover was turning to her for courthouse gossip and not the other way around.

 

“She didn’t exactly answer my question.”

 

“What did she say?”

 

“Something about not questioning coincidences…she was rather vague…”

 

“Cragen said Abbie is another of these big City favours…”

 

“Really?” Intrigued, Alex put her glasses back on in order to be better able to scrutinise her lover for any tell tale signs of teasing. She didn’t see any.

 

“Seems that, whilst you’re in the papers for being out here with me solving the serial case, City Hall didn’t want to have the DA’s Office in the papers for losing all the other cases in court…”

 

“But there are plenty of ADAs who still work for the City…” mused Alex, mentally recalling at least a half a dozen experienced prosecutors who could probably be persuaded to pick up one or two of her cases each, if only for the press coverage, with SVU suddenly becoming the media-focus unit…

 

“But none with SVU experience, apart from…” Olivia could go no further as Alex cut in with an exaggerated shudder,

 

“Liz had to promise Lena that she’d never, ever put Casey Novak in her courtroom, for anything, not even a parking summons…”

 

“She hearing many of the cases coming up?”

 

“Four of them I think…”

 

“Ah…last I heard, Casey was actually doing good with those fraud cases…” offered Olivia kindly, hoping Alex would shift out from this sarcastic mood before they got to the Crime Lab. As first impressions went, it wasn’t one of her girlfriend’s best….

 

“Yes…so Abbie was transferred because she’s the only female ADA in New York who’s actually won an SVU case?” asked Alex, prompting a none too gentle squeeze on the shoulder from Olivia,

 

“ALEX!”

 

“Sorry, that was a bit harsh…”

 

“A bit?”

 

“A lot…can I blame hormones?”

 

“Are you pregnant?” countered Olivia, keen to shift the mood of their conversation to something lighter.

 

“Hardly…” retorted Alex, smirking as she recalled Munch’s jibe on that very subject only a couple of weeks ago.

 

“In that case, I recommend the brie…” teased Olivia, Abbie Carmichael virtually forgotten as both ladies turned their focus to the food – they potentially had a long night ahead of them.

 


	4. Chapter 1

Sharing a quick glance with Alex which could be clearly interpreted as asking ‘You ready?’, Olivia tried to put from her mind the last time she’d been about to knock on a door and announce herself as NYPD – the comparison should have been minimal since this time, it was the door to the office of Sara Sidle, and she wasn’t knocking on the door, but the doorframe, since the door was wide open.

 

“Yes?” On hearing the knock on the doorframe, Sara Sidle, not looking up from the report she was reading, called out to whomever was wanting her.

 

“Detective Olivia Benson and…” Olivia was unable to get any further as Sara’s head snapped up as she concluded,

 

“…and ADA Alexandra Cabot, New York City…” before grinning slightly, enough to reveal to Alex the small gap between her two front teeth and reassure Olivia she wasn’t the only nervous law enforcement officer in the room, “…have a seat…”

 

“Thanks…the front desk just sent us back…” explained Olivia, feeling vaguely uncomfortable with how easily they’d been left to wander the building unsupervised.

 

“Yup…” agreed Sara, shuffling her reports together whilst she elaborated, not needing to be the highly trained investigator that she was to pick up on Olivia’s concern, “…we don’t make LAPD officers sign in each visit so long as they have a reason to be in the building – so long as you’re wearing your New York badges, you’ll be fine…” The casual tone and gesture towards the ID they’d clipped to their lapels made Alex suddenly grateful that, immediately before they’d left the hotel, she’d made Olivia show her how to affix her ADA badge to her suit jacket, just in case. Whilst she constantly carried the identification, with the exception of flashing it to courthouse security, Alex had never needed to wear her identification, until now. It had taken a few minutes for the blonde to master flipping open the leather case and then securing it to her jacket without dropping it or her purse but it had turned out to be vital practice since, on arriving at the Las Vegas Crime Labs, she’d been ready, something which Cabots prided themselves on being, whatever the circumstance.

 

“Do the PD visit much?” asked Olivia, mentally comparing the seemingly contrasting attitudes of the NYC and LV Crime Labs to visiting police officers.

 

“Generally just the Homicide Detectives – we mainly go to them for everything else.”

 

“And ADAs?” asked Alex, trying not to look too amazed at everything she was now seeing on the shelves around Sara’s office – it was a very long time since she’d last been in such a scientific environment.

 

“Are only invited…you’re the exception Ms Cabot…”

 

“Thank you, I think.”

 

“How about a tour? I have some reports to drop off and we may as well do all the prints and stuff, before the jet lag kicks in…” suggested Sara, dropping two files in her lap and collecting her cell phone and pager from her desk corner.

 

“Prints?”

 

“We keep a database here with local PD and CSI prints, DNA and hair samples stored for elimination purposes. Should you end up visiting a scene, there is a chance you might end up mixed up with the evidence…”

 

“But we’re on AFIS…”

 

“True, but a match can take days…this will be quicker.”

 

“Ah…” Uncertain what else to say, or how much of her ‘history’ with Witness Protection might already be known to the investigator, Alex decided to stop her enquiry. There was nothing she could do, and it wasn’t worth the worry now – certainly, her prints would prove she was Alexandra Cabot which, if this Supervisor was as good as they’d been led to believe she was, was probably the true purpose of the fingerprinting, with the file records being a useful ancillary benefit. The real question bothering Alex though, was who else would her prints prove her to be?

 

“I promise not to get ink on you!” quipped Sara, having a pretty good idea what the blonde ADA’s nervousness was really about, as she led the New York pair out into the hallway, before continuing with her ‘nickel tour’ of the CSI labs.

 

“Down there’s the break room, where we hang out on slow nights…”

 

“Vegas has slow nights?” asked Olivia, amazed.

 

“The City doesn’t, but we sometimes do – not every crime needs CSI call-out…there’s coffee and snacks there usually…” concluded Sara, before turning around and heading in the opposite direction heading towards the more interesting bits of her kingdom, the labs.

 

“How many on your shift?” asked Alex, fascinated by the alien environment she was catching glimpses of through the glass walls as they followed the strangely enigmatic supervisor. Even Olivia, reasonably familiar with the New York labs, was struggling to conceal her curiosity behind her ‘detective’s mask’ as she caught tantalising glimpses of scientists working on various pieces of what she had to assume were evidence.

 

“Five CSIs, including me are permanently on nights, and about half a dozen techs, though they change depending on shifts. Archie and Bobby seem to have managed to become permanently on graveyard though…” began Sara, alluding to the nickname often given to night shifts, only to be cut off by her name being shouted by an obviously excited man who had just emerged from a lab on their left.

 

“What is it Greg?”

 

“That window pane, it had blood spatters…”

 

“You get a match?”

 

“We got him!” exclaimed Greg excitedly, “We got him good!”

 

“It’s one broken window…” reasoned Sara calmly.  Olivia thought she could detect a well concealed sparkle of excitement in her body language, although she was finding the brunette rather hard to read.

 

“Oh…” Momentarily deflated, Greg looked again at his paper before suddenly looking at Alex, who hadn’t thought he’d noticed her and asked, “If I could show you six windows broken the same way and blood from a known bad guy on one of those windows, would you charge him with all six?”

 

“Umm…” Alex was caught momentarily mentally flat-footed for a moment, surprised by the focussed intensity of Greg’s stare as he waited for an answer, before she concluded, “…it would all depend on how the windows were broken – lots of people throw stones…”

 

“But not many use a diamond, wanna look?” asked Sara, breaking into a full grin, partly due to the delight at the break in the case Greg had made, and partly due to her gut deciding that having these New York people hanging about may not be such a hassle for her staff as they’d had to suffer previously.

 

“Lead the way…”

 


	5. Chapter 1 - part 1 (CSI)

“How’s it going?” asked Greg, ambling into the fingerprint lab curious as to what had Jackie so bemused.

 

“Not sure…” admitted the experienced fingerprint tech, repeatedly glancing between the card in her hand and the screen in front of her.

 

“Whose case?”

 

“Nobody’s; Sara had me run the ten cards for our New York visitors when she added them to the Vegas lists…”

 

“They not in the system?”

 

“Sergeant Benson checks out fine...”

 

“She prefers Detective…” explained Greg, having been gently corrected on that point by the amiable brunette, “…but what’s up with Alex?”

 

“Alex? You getting friendly already Greggo?” teased Jackie, smiling at her friend before returning her gaze to the screen.

 

“Sara had me explain my case…which is now closed I might add…” said Greg with more than a hint of pride, “…what’s wrong with her prints?” he asked, now more curious in the puzzle that Jackie was obviously battling with.

 

“I’ve got three hits…”

 

“What?” Intrigued, Greg came to stand next to Jackie so he could see the results for himself.

 

“Running the prints from the ADA has brought back three names – Alexandra Cabot, Emily Jameson and Francesca Martins…”

 

“That’s not possible…”

 

“I know…”

 

“You get those prints back yet Jackie?” asked Sara, coming into the lab, making Greg jump.

 

“I’m getting you a bell…” he muttered, before turning around and saying brightly, “…Hey Boss…”

 

“Don’t call me that…”

 

“Sorry…Jackie’s got a mystery for you…” began Greg, only to be interrupted by Sara.

 

“Did Alex Cabot’s prints bring up more than one hit?”

 

“How’d you know?” asked Jackie, suspiciously.

 

“Google. Can I see the reports?”

 

“Google?” asked Jackie, even as she was passing across the print outs, showing the three women, all with the same fingerprints, all with slightly different dates of birth, all with very different lives in very different states but all with a slightly over-enthusiastic relationship with the gas pedal.

 

“Ms. Cabot’s quite the headline maker…” explained Sara cryptically, reviewing the reports, satisfied with what they were telling her, smiling at something.

 

“What’s funny?” asked Greg, suspicious of her reaction.

 

“I’m trying to imagine her blending in in Idaho…thanks for these Jackie.”

 

“What do I do with them?” asked the confused lab tech, wondering if Sara had always been this cryptic or if it was something she’d cultivated especially to infuriate people once she became supervisor.

 

“Log the set as Alex Cabot…”

 

“And the other two?”

 

“They’re not important…”

 

“But who are they?” asked Greg, persisting even as Sara was moving out of the lab.

 

“Alex Cabot…”

 

“Huh?” Seeing Sara was no longer there, Jackie turned to Greg, hoping he’d have some great insight into what had just happened.

 

“Don’t look at me, I don’t know what she means either…”

 

“We could always google her…” suggested Jackie, already turning to the other computer.

 

“That only works in TV shows…” said Greg dismissively, nevertheless watching intently as Jackie hit enter, revealing thousands of results, starting with…“…she was in Witness Protection?”

 

“Why didn’t we think of that?” asked Jackie rhetorically, already scanning the news story.

 

“Because it only happens in TV shows?”

 

“Or Vegas…” agreed Jackie, clicking on another link. Something told her that these next few weeks would be far from ordinary, even by their standards…

 


	6. Chapter 1 - part 2 (SVU)

“I can’t believe they re-assembled six broken windows…” mused Alex, sitting down at the table in the break room having made two mugs of coffee for her and Olivia.

 

“I did tell you CSU techs had patience…” teased Olivia, discreetly testing her knee for soreness. Professional pride had meant she’d left her cane in the hotel room but, after three hours of touring the labs meeting people and completing ‘newbie stuff’ as Greg had called it, she was quite glad to take the weight off her leg.

 

“Reconstructing a beer bottle for a fingerprint is a little smaller…” mused Alex, thoughtfully.

 

“You still thinking about the fingerprints?” asked Olivia, all too aware of a subtle rigidity and stiffness that had settled over her lover when, after they’d finished looking at the windows with Greg, Sara had set their prints running through AFIS.

 

“A little…”

 

“Nervous?”

 

“Curious…” Alex paused to sip her coffee, “…I know Emily Jameson is still in the system…”

 

“Oh?” Olivia tried not to wince – Emily Jameson was the identity Alex had had when she had been at her lowest and most despondent – she didn’t result in happy memories for Alex.

 

“Speeding, twice.”  


“How many tickets have you had?” asked Olivia, deciding to steer their conversation onto happier topics, knowing that Alex’s relationship with the traffic laws was always guaranteed a smile or two.

 

“Only one, and it was before I became an ADA!”

 

“But in total?”

 

“You know it’s six…” countered Alex, knowing Olivia was teasing her, but also knowing it could have been a lot higher if it hadn’t been for Olivia’s patient reminders when they were out driving together.

 

“What were the other three?” asked Olivia, realising she’d never actually asked, deciding some time ago to stop being curious about Alex’s time in WPP, except when it came up in conversation naturally.

 

“Spot fines and a roadside talking to once; the other two had mandatory ‘driver’s education’ programmes…”

 

“Fun…” said Olivia, sarcastically, having a fairly low opinion of many of the ‘mandatory drivers’ ed’ schemes which were often run by retired cops and gave the impression of being of little real purpose or benefit to anyone except the cops whose pension payouts were being augmented. That wasn’t to say she completely disagreed with them – she knew of a couple that were genuinely good in her view, but that was a depressingly small percentage of the total.

 

“Do you think she’ll find enough to break the cases?” asked Alex suddenly, finally acknowledging the nagging worry that had settled on her as they boarded the flight from New York. For all Olivia’s outwardly calm appearance, Alex couldn’t stop herself from worrying about what of her lover’s career would remain if they didn’t succeed.

 

“I think we’ll be fine…” decided Olivia confidently, voicing a confidence that she finally now felt: maybe their case wasn’t any more complex than those six windows…

 


	7. Chapter 2

"Sorry about that..." said Sara Sidle, announcing her presence more than actually apologising to the NYPD Detective and ADA that were sitting in the break room drinking coffee.

 

"We made ourselves at home..." observed Olivia Benson, gesturing towards Sara with her coffee mug, "...hopefully we found the 'guest' mugs..." she continued, glad that she'd had the forethought to pack two NYPD coffee mugs in their luggage. She'd yet to meet any form of law enforcement squad that didn't regard coffee as a food group and had learnt on her very first day in the uniform that there was no quicker way to stir up squad politics and tempers than by using the wrong coffee mug. For long trips such as this one, it was safest to bring your own...

 

"How did you know?" asked Sara, heading towards the coffee pot and pouring out half a cup, curious to see what the New York brew was like.

 

"Dust...Tarantula guy leave in a rush?" hazarded Olivia, recalling how she'd stopped Alex from just grabbing two mugs from the tray and instead inspected them all for dust, eventually finding the two mugs with tarantulas on that had a fine yet noticeable coating of dust in the bottom, revealing that the mugs probably hadn't been used in a while.

 

"Something like that...you make good coffee..." acknowledged Sara, taking a second sip of the impressively satisfying brew given they hadn't had access to Greg's secret stash of beans, mentally congratulating them on their astuteness with the coffee mugs. It hadn't exactly been a challenge she'd set them, but it was positive to see that they'd passed it nevertheless…

 

"Thank you..." said Alex, looking like she was going to add something to her comment but instead changing her mind and saying nothing.

 

"Something on your mind Counsellor?" baited Sara, having a fairly good idea what the ADA's question was going to be.

 

"Yes..." Normally asking the questions rather than answering them, Alex was hesitant to launch straight into her questions immediately, instead making a pause for herself by taking a sip from her coffee, trying hard not to look at the mug, glad Olivia had brought some NYPD ones...she really didn't like spiders...

 

"Care to share?" asked Sara attempting to be casual, although the challenge was clear: are you as gutsy as your reputation suggests despite the fact that you're now away from your City, or are you intimidated by the isolation? It was an important point that Sara had to establish quickly as experience had taught her that, if the ADA wasn't confident enough to make calls out here without her office to support her, this would be a pointless four weeks with little progress made.

 

"I was wondering if we'd passed the 'tests' to your satisfaction..." The arch-ness of the statement made Sara smile, inadvertently ratcheting up Alexandra Cabot's level of 'peeved-ness' another couple of notches, which only served to broaden Sara's smile into a full grin when Alex continued, "...after all, that was what we've been sitting here waiting for, wasn't it?"

 

"Very astute Ms. Cabot....and yes..." Sara took another sip of her coffee, "...you have been waiting for me to discover if you'd passed all of my 'tests'..."

 

"And did we?" asked Olivia, not sure what was really happening between the CSI and her ADA but deciding that, given how glacial Alex's tone was becoming, it was perhaps best if she re-joined this conversation, if only as mediator.

 

"Yes...you're exactly as I'd hoped Ms Cabot..." complimented Sara smoothly, the attitude change completely unbalancing Alex who had been ready to launch off into a torrent of righteous indigence and lengthy elaboration about why her fingerprints had multiple identities...

 

"I am?"

 

"Yup...oh, and Bobby's got the test tank reset now Detective, so next time you're passing just drop in and he'll take the test fire from your service weapon..."

 

"Sure..." agreed Olivia, happy to go and revisit the amiable occupant of the ballistics lab who'd been most embarrassed that he'd been draining the test fire tank when they'd stopped by earlier to meet him and test fire a bullet from Olivia's gun so that there was a record of what 'her' bullets looked like - it was a formality that Olivia had gone through in New York and one that made perfect sense to the Detective, understanding that in a way, the pattern her gun barrel and firing pin made on bullets was just another facet of her potential crime scene fingerprint, although it was one she hoped never had to be looked up again whilst she was in Las Vegas.

 

"What had you hoped for, exactly?" asked Alex, having had a moment to recollect herself before pursuing what it was in the criminalist's earlier comment that had jarred her so much.

 

"You when you're angry..." summarised Sara, deliberately avoiding talking about the 'elephant in the room'.

 

"I..." Alex was about to protest about being described as angry, but something in Sara's tone and manner made her reconsider, "...am irritated by people playing games and keeping information from me..." she admitted, deciding that the next few weeks would be a lot more palatable if she was explicit from the start.

 

"I can imagine..."

 

"Why did you want her angry?" asked Olivia, curious about Sara's underlying motivation for what would normally be regarded in SVU as a potentially lethal ambition - deliberately pissing off Cabot was only undertaken by the very brave or the very foolish...

 

"Because if you and I are going to make any progress in sorting out this case of yours, we need an ADA who's prepared to be flexible and fight...not shrug and say no..." began Sara, only to trail off when she saw Olivia's grin.

 

"I say something funny Detective?"

 

"No..." began Olivia, only to correct herself, "...I'm surprised you'd make that assumption given the evidence..."

 

"What evidence?"

 

"The evidence I know you must have about my time in Witness Protection and the reasons for my being put in the Programme..." said Alex, finally bringing up by name what they'd previously talked around.

 

"Ah...I 'googled' you..." admitted Sara, explaining why she hadn't felt the need to comment on the fingerprints from the blonde returning three names, only one of which was Alexandra Cabot.

 

"You 'googled' me?"

 

"I wanted to know more about who I was getting...it's usually the most informative..." shrugged Sara, "...which is what you did to find out about me, wasn't it Detective?"

 

"Yes, though something tells me you found more links on us than I found on you..." said Olivia neutrally, wondering what would happen next - law enforcement was traditionally not particularly open-minded when it came to homosexuality although her rather rusty 'gaydar' was making Olivia feel slightly more confident than she might have otherwise been. As was so often the case for the seasoned detective, her confidence wasn't misplaced either.

 

"My partner's not come back from the dead...but you'll maybe meet her later if she gets back from the desert in time..."

 

"Your partner?"

 

"Catherine Willows - she's one of the graveyard CSIs..." explained Sara, surprising herself with her forthcomingness, although it wouldn't take more than five minutes with the regular CSI gang for that particular secret to get out. Whilst they weren't a 'poster' couple for lesbians in law enforcement, neither Sara nor Catherine were paranoid about letting colleagues be aware of their relationship, although obviously it was mainly their fellow CSIs that actually made reference to it.

 

"How many years have you worked this shift?" asked Olivia, seizing on the opportunity to shift the conversation away from the personal issues which she sensed were probably just as uncomfortable for the brunette CSI as they were for her and back to the more solid topics of business, although quite how much longer she was going to last she wasn’t sure – it had been a long time since she deliberately worked night shifts, although far too many cases had seen her work through the night....

 

“Eight or so now…we all have…makes supervising easier, we’re a very settled team…” Sara was keen to establish that the shift overall was a very solid unit. She didn’t want a repeat of an earlier cold case when the visiting detective had tried to get Warrick to re-run something in the hope that he’d get a more favourable result.

 

"Which is why you can take our case..." concluded Alex, feeling back 'in control' of herself now that the issue of Witness Protection and the relationship between her and Olivia had been acknowledged and summarily dismissed as being non-events.

 

"If there's a major case then I'll head out to the scene, otherwise I stay here and help out…and solve interesting cold cases…"

 

"And ours is interesting?" asked Olivia, not missing the confidence with which Sara announced that she 'solved' interesting cold cases.

 

"Yup…anything unsolved is interesting…"

 

"We've re-opened this case several times in the past, what makes you think you can solve it?" asked Alex, wanting to determine if the woman's self-confidence in her ability to solve the case was founded on anything other than ego.

 

"Because there is always a piece of evidence to find that breaks the case open…it's just a question of knowing when you've found it."

 

"It's that simple?" asked Olivia, intrigued. Whilst she'd spent many years working alongside the CSU techs, she'd never really thought to consider how they approached their work. For her as the Detective, meeting the victim, pursuing the suspect, it was easy to be motivated by a desire to find the suspect for Alex as ADA to bring to justice. For the crime scene guys she worked with though, who rarely if ever saw the victim unless they were part of the evidence and never saw the suspects, it possibly was that simple…in a very complex way.

 

"Somewhere in all that evidence you shipped is the key to the next step that will find your suspect, which is why you're both here. If it was as straightforward as processing the fingerprints and getting a match in AFIS, you wouldn't be here…"

 

"So why are we here?" asked Alex, realising it had actually been a question that had been sticking in her mind since the moment her boss, Liz Donnelly, had told her she was being sent here with Olivia.

 

"The idea of going over the evidence again is to get more questions, questions that your colleagues in New York can then go and get answers to that we can use to find the suspect or suspects."

 

"So how do we do this?" asked Olivia, deciding she'd had enough abstract talking – it was time to start doing….

 

"We start with the first case…" declared Sara simply, “...I’ll begin processing tomorrow night…” she added quickly, seeing Alex trying quite successfully to suppress a yawn.

 

“You’re going to process them in order?” asked Olivia, fascinated. Whenever a new case started, it was always a challenge knowing where to start, which lead to follow first, who to question last…she couldn’t imagine how difficult that decision would be now, faced with all cases together.

 

“Yup…every night we’ll process a case…”

 

“But that will take days…” observed Alex, beginning to grasp the scale of what this criminalist was going to undertake – this rapist-killer had attacked three or four people every election season, for four seasons. It wasn’t SVU’s proudest moment, when they finally realised, after eight cases across all five Boroughs, that all the cases were connected. That, after another two election campaigns, they hadn’t been able to stop the guy, well, it explained Olivia’s initial assumption someone was trying to push her out of the Unit when the re-open order had materialised.

 

“What do you mean process?” asked Olivia, hoping Sara hadn’t noticed the small yawn that had nearly escaped in the middle of her question.

 

“Come back tomorrow night and you’ll see…” announced Sara smirking. She had noticed.

 

“What time?” asked Alex, recognising the dismissal and rather glad that she didn’t have to force herself to stay awake much longer – the naps they’d snatched on the plane and after arriving mid afternoon had helped counteract the jet lag and their early start, but weren’t really long enough to enable them to last all night…

 

“Come by at 9…”

 

“We need to bring anything?” asked Olivia practically, already beginning to work out what time she needed to set their alarm in order to get their sleep cycles reset for working night shifts.

 

“A change of clothes…you never know what will happen round here…see you tomorrow…” said Sara, before being interrupted by her cell phone ringing. Deciding that she didn’t have anything further to add, the CSI used the ringing cell as an opportunity to take her leave, confident the pair could find their way out of the lab building, Sara left her used mug on the table and turned her chair towards the door, answering the phone as she moved, sufficiently experienced with her wheelchair to be able to use her cell phone and steer a steady course back to her office.


	8. Chapter 2 - part 1 (CSI)

“Quiet shift?” asked Catherine, leaning against the doorframe of Sara’s office, the blonde slightly surprised to see her lover in her office writing reports rather than pouring over the newest puzzle to arrive, this time from New York.

 

“Yes…how was the desert?” asked Sara as she initialled another page – it was a good shift when she could measure the size of her out tray with a yardstick and actually see her in tray.

 

“Dusty and nothing…” began Catherine, coming into the office and reclining on one of Sara’s ‘guest’ chairs, “…animal bones…”

 

“Long drive for not much…” agreed Sara, signing off the report and looking up at her lover, “…there wasn’t anything better whilst you were gone.”

 

“I find that hard to believe…”

 

“Greg found evidence on break-in number 6 that proves it’s Bannerman…” explained Sara, mentally reviewing what had happened whilst Catherine had been playing in the dunes, “…Nick sorted his SUV case…”

 

“Was it serial numbers like he thought?” asked Catherine, remembering Sara mentioning how Nick had been looking at half-a-dozen SUVs for Traffic in the hope they could break a car-stealing gang.

 

“Yeah, though they were dissolving with acid rather than sandpapering…” confirmed Sara, recalling how satisfied the amiable Texan had been when she’d stopped by earlier – it hadn’t been murder, but on a mysteriously quiet Friday night it had been better than nothing.

 

“And they say that high-school science has no practical application…” retorted Catherine sarcastically, feeling a little better about her case now – it may have come to nothing but it did at least make the shift pass quickly.

 

“You done your report?”

 

“Sure…” Catherine passed across the slim file she’d been holding which contained her report for Sara on her non-case case. Flicking through it, Sara was immediately happy to sign it off, using it to crown her rather impressive pile of completed paperwork.

 

“You want to get waffles?” she asked as she straightened her desk. It was a few minutes to eight on Saturday morning and, whilst shift didn’t end until 08:00, Sara had decided their work was done.

 

“Special occasion?” queried Catherine, getting to her feet. She loved waffles for breakfast, but Sara couldn’t stand them…

 

“You need a sugar kick…” explained Sara, wheeling herself around her desk and out into the hallway.

 

“I do?” Catherine had thought she was feeling quite perky.

 

“You’ve got to cheer Linds on at 10…” reminded Sara, locking her office, knowing that Greg and Nick had already left, taking advantage of the quiet night to continue their constant quest to catch up on lost sleep.

 

“Oh, this basketball thing…” recalled Catherine, remembering her daughter’s exuberant explanation earlier in the week.

 

“Round Robin School Competition…” corrected Sara gently, amused at how non-memorable basketball was for her lover.

 

“Right, basketball thingy…” repeated Catherine, enjoying the patient look Sara was shooting at her. Sometimes, she felt a bit foolish about her failure to grasp the ‘magic’ of basketball that had evidently caught her lover and daughter, but most of the time she just basked in the joy that the pair radiated when they were together talking, watching or playing the game. Whilst there was certainly far more to Sara and Lindsey’s relationship than just basketball, it was a key part of their relationship, and was in fact the first thing that they had ‘bonded’ over, making Catherine even more reluctant to try and master it…

 

“You don’t do dumb blonde well Cat…” teased Sara, knowing exactly why Catherine was ignorant of basketball.

 

“You going to play at the Centre anytime soon?” asked Catherine suddenly, reminded of an earlier conversation with Lindsey she’d completely forgotten about.

 

“Hadn’t thought, why?”

 

“Linds and Jill Cunningham want to get some information about the dog scheme.”

 

“I’ll make sure I get some next time I go,” agreed Sara, stopping by the car door and pulling on her sunglasses.

 

“You want a hand?”

 

“I’m good,” said Sara, opening the passenger door. Moments later, with practised ease, she’d transferred herself into the passenger seat, leaving Catherine to collapse the wheelchair and stow it in the trunk. It was time to put work behind them; it was Saturday morning – time to cheer their daughter as she played basketball.


	9. Chapter 2 - part 2 (SVU)

Turning off the bathroom light, Olivia paused in the doorway, enjoying the opportunity to study Alex without the blonde's immediate awareness of the scrutiny. Propped up against the headboard, blonde hair cascading loose around her face, black framed glasses perched on her nose, Alex Cabot studied the in-room information pack with the same level of intensity as she afforded her work.

 

"Anything interesting?" asked Olivia conversationally, her tired knee reminding her that she should actually join her lover in bed rather than continue to lean against the bathroom doorframe and admire her.

 

"Not really - although the local churches section was unusual..." mused Alex, losing interest in the directory and placing it in the bedside drawer which already housed the Bible that somehow, in this increasingly secular age, was still a staple of the hotel room.

 

"Let me guess, it had a subsection for those that wished to marry but not confess?" joked Olivia as she checked the door was deadbolted and chained, a revised version of their normal bedtime routine which would see her checking the apartment door and windows.

 

"Something like that..." agreed Alex, removing her glasses and placing them on the bedside table, an action which caused her to pause to consider something.

 

"What's the matter?' asked Olivia kindly, spotting her girlfriend freeze, anxious to discover what the problem was.

 

"The phone...it's on my side of the bed..." explained Alex, Olivia's question shaking her out of her thoughts.

 

"No one's going to call it - everyone's using our cells..." decided Olivia easily, effectively dismissing the issue, knowing that Alex's momentary pause was triggered by a slightly more significant recollection than the recognition that at home, in their apartment, it was Olivia's side of the bed that housed the phone.

 

"Did you set a wake up call?" asked Alex, satisfied with her lover's rationalisation.

 

"No - no alarm calls for us..."

 

"We're sleeping in?" asked Alex, confused. Even on weekends when Liv had been working all hours of the week to break a case, they still set an alarm clock for some time. For serial workaholics who were regularly sleep deprived, neither one of them had ever fully grasped the joys of the sleep-in, although both were huge fans of the lie-in, assuming they were both doing it together...

 

"We're sleeping until we wake up, whatever time that may be," began Olivia, settling down into the pillows which, unsurprisingly, were too hard and big for two to be comfortable but too thin for just one to work.

 

"The pillows are horrid..." interrupted Alex, knowing what Olivia was trying to achieve having already attempted to find a comfortable configuration.

 

"I've slept on worse..."

 

"Comfortable?" asked Alex dryly when she felt the mattress stop bouncing from Olivia's careful attempts to hurl herself onto the pillows without putting too much pressure on either her healing ribs or knee.

 

"I think so..." agreed Olivia, reaching out and turning off both bedside lights using the room master switch.

 

"Very comfortable..." agreed Alex happily, taking advantage of the sudden darkness to swiftly rearrange her own sleeping position to take into account her most comfortable pillow option - her lover's chest.

 

"I'm glad..." commented Olivia with affectionate sarcasm, enjoying the familiar feeling of Alex snuggled up against her, making use of her favourite pillow - Olivia's chest and shoulder, the detective once again glad that her body had taken the battering on the other side, ensuring that their entwined sleeping position hadn't had to be altered.

 

"So why don't we need an alarm call?' asked Alex again, beginning to feel her eyelids become heavy as the combination of the quiet, dark room and the familiar cadence of her lover's chest rising and falling in perfect counterpoint to the strong heartbeat overcame her battle for wakefulness.

 

"Because you're about to start working nights sweetie..." explained Olivia, knowing Alex was nearly asleep.

 

"What's that got to do with it?" slurred Alex drowsily, not making the connection.

 

"It means we're going to be sleeping days..." There was little point in Olivia trying to expand on that idea as, from the shift in Alex's head position and breathing, she'd lost the battle, and fallen fast asleep, a battle Olivia quickly conceded herself, the long day catching up on her. Today they'd arrived in Las Vegas...tomorrow, the work would begin.

 


	10. Chapter 2 - part 3 (CSI)

“What’s she doing here?” asked Catherine suddenly, the basketball game holding no interest to her when Lindsey wasn’t playing.

 

“Who?”

 

“Calloway…”

 

“Officer Calloway?”

 

“Yes, the uni who keeps appearing…she’s sitting over there…I didn’t think she was old enough to have kids this age…” mused Catherine, immediately suspicious. Whilst the CSIs got to know the detectives reasonably well, especially if they were assigned to Brass’ Homicide Squad, uniform cops were usually just a continuous stream of beige-clad bodies. It took something unusual for a patrol cop to become familiar to the CSIs, and Calloway’s all too frequent appearances? They were certainly unusual…

 

“She doesn’t,” said Sara simply, returning her focus to the game, satisfied the mystery had been solved.

 

“So why be here watching the game so closely?”

 

“She’s not watching the game…she’s watching the ref.”

 

“Jen Calloway and Charlotte Abrahams?” asked Catherine, not sure whether to be surprised or relieved that the attractive biology-cum-basketball teacher had a new interest in Las Vegas law enforcement that wasn’t her oblivious lover.

 

“Met at Lindsey’s parents’ evening, had coffee the next day…”

 

“And you know this how?” Rarely, if ever was Sara the better informed about rumour and gossip, relying instead on Catherine to pass on the ‘good stuff’.

 

“Calloway gave me a ride home…did you ever find out from Jim why she’s hanging around CSI?”

 

“No, I thought you were going to ask him…you know, she’s very attractive…” mused Catherine, prompting Sara to turn and look sharply at her, “…in a tall, dark and ordinary sort of way…” continued Catherine, before turning to Sara and adding, “…but I prefer tall, dark and fascinating sweetheart…”

 

“Smooth…” groused Sara good naturedly, knowing that Catherine’s teasing was entirely in jest, their interlinked fingers resting in Catherine’s lap a tangible representation of their connection.

 

“But speaking of tall, dark and uniformed…” began Catherine, earning a groan from Sara, who’d been wondering how long it would take for Catherine to bring up the New York visitors.

 

“She wasn’t wearing her uniform…”

 

“Who?” It was a good job Catherine’s career was now law enforcement and not law breaking related – she really was atrocious at looking innocent.

 

“Detective Sergeant Olivia Benson, NYPD.”

 

“But is she?”

 

“Is she what?”

 

“Tall and dark?”

 

“I guess…” confirmed Sara, knowing Catherine wouldn’t press for a more detailed description – whilst Sara was an excellent investigator who could probably produce a ten page report on the Detective’s visit during shift, she was hopeless at providing subjective descriptions of potentially attractive women. It was a character-trait Catherine was never entirely sure if she should be frustrated or delighted by – when she was wanting to know her lover’s opinion about someone, it was incredibly frustrating and yet, at the same time, she couldn’t deny how warm and loved it made her feel every time she was reminded that her lover genuinely had no opinions (joking views over breakfast with the guys notwithstanding) about women other than her; it didn’t hurt her ego either…

 

“You like them?”

 

“Yes, I do…”

 

“Good…do you think they’ll get on with the guys?”

 

“Bobby and Greg are gone already…” replied Sara calmly, remembering how the two men had reacted when encouraged to ‘Call me Olivia’ and instead just about managing to stammer out ‘Detective’.

 

“That was fast…”

 

“Mmm…Linds’ turn now…” observed Sara, effectively ending their conversation about work as both paid close attention to the basketball court and their talented daughter…

 

* * *

 

 

“…and Jill’s mom wants to hear more about Max,” finished Lindsey, resuming her attack on her lunch now she’d caught her parents up on all her news.

 

“I’ll get some information for you next time I go to the Centre…” agreed Sara, taking a somewhat quieter slurp of her milkshake, which in contrast to Lindsey’s chocolate one was vanilla, and half the size.

 

“Thank you…we found some stuff on the internet..”

 

“We?” prompted Catherine, interrupting long enough to enable Sara to finish her mouthful of sandwich without getting indigestion.

 

“Jill and me…we showed her mom and that’s why she wants to know more…” It took a remarkable dose of self restraint on Lindsey’s part to not add a ‘D’uh’ type emphasis on the end of her comment.

 

“Ah…I didn’t see Jill playing today?” continued Catherine, her own sandwich finished, her participation in the earlier conversation not required as Lindsey had insisted on having a play-by-play recap of her morning with Sara. Somehow, whilst the constant conversation hadn’t delayed Lindsey’s eating, Sara still had half a sandwich to contend with.

 

“She’s gone to visit her cousin…” Lindsey slurped up the end of her milkshake, “…but she didn’t want to go, she doesn’t like him.”

 

“Not everyone likes their cousins Linds…” cautioned Catherine reasonably, although she was curious as to what this cousin had done to make Jill not like him. She’d always got the impression from her mother that their extended family was actually very close, hence why Lindsey was always welcome – another child close to Jill’s age really wasn’t difficult to accommodate.

 

“He’s disgusting…he collects bugs!” Later, Sara would forget whether it was Lindsey’s look of outrage or Catherine’s smirk that set her off, but right now, that didn’t matter. What did matter was that, if it hadn’t been for Catherine’s swift thump on the back, Sara would have choked on her sandwich.

 

“You ok?” asked Catherine, concerned.

 

“Yes…” Sara took up her water glass and sipped as she ran her fingertip under her eyes, collecting the moisture.

 

“You sure, I mean…” There was something in Catherine’s expression that made Sara stop and consider what had just happened, Lindsey momentarily forgotten.

 

“I was laughing Cat…” she quickly reassured her worried lover, “…I choked when I laughed…”

 

“Oh…” relief colouring Catherine’s face when she understood, glad that Sara had found Lindsey’s disgust at bugs amusing and not an upsetting reference to her former mentor.

 

“It wasn’t funny…” pouted Lindsey, not getting the joke.

 

“I’m sorry sweetie…” soothed Catherine, refocusing her attention on her confused daughter, “…you used to be fascinated by bugs…”

 

“I did?”

 

“Do you remember Mommy’s friend with the spiders at work?”

 

“He made Sara sad so he left,” announced Lindsey, startling her parents. They’d both assumed that they’d managed to keep the Grissom mess at work and away from Lindsey.

 

“He did make me sad, but he left because he wanted to work somewhere else…” explained Sara quickly, not wanting her own problems to feature in Lindsey’s life.

 

“With his bugs?”

 

“With his bugs…he now works all the time with his bugs…” said Catherine, mentally wondering why Grissom’s departure hadn’t been something they’d talked more about. She’d always assumed Lindsey had just been too young to really remember him.

 

“Good…I didn’t mind his bugs…”

 

“Why? How are they different?”

 

“ ‘Cos he kept them in jars….Jimmy Cunningham puts them in Jill’s hair!”

 

“How unpleasant!” agreed Catherine, not entirely sure how this conversation was scoring on the ‘good parenting’ scales but happy to share her daughter’s horror at having bugs in her hair.

 

“Can I have an ice-cream please?” asked Lindsey suddenly, their earlier topics forgotten, to be replaced by thoughts of chocolate sauce and sprinkles.

 

“How about we make sundaes at home and watch TV?” suggested Sara quickly, her body craving a chance to stretch out and relax, just as she could tell Catherine’s was starting to demand sleep.

 

“Can we watch basketball?” asked Lindsey, full of enthusiasm for the new plan.

 

“Whatever you want kiddo…” agreed Sara, gesturing for the check.

 

“Cool…I mean Thanks Mom!”

 


	11. Chapter 2 - part 4 (SVU)

"Morning..." mumbled Alex sleepily when she finally became aware of her surroundings once more.

 

“Afternoon actually…” corrected Olivia gently, coming and sitting on the side of the bed nearest her lover.

 

“Oh…” Looking past Olivia, Alex caught sight of the clock, “…I haven’t slept this late since …” Alex paused, obviously catching what she’d been originally going to say and changing her mind, saying instead, “…since college…”

 

“You managed to sleep this late in college?” asked Olivia, surprised at the admission, happy not to call Alex on what she knew to be a lie.

 

“You find that hard to believe?” asked Alex, stretching extravagantly, not caring that the sheets now shifted from her body, leaving her chest exposed.

 

“A little…” agreed Olivia, all too aware of what the sheet had done.

 

“Why?” asked Alex, intrigued.

 

“Because you’ve always struggled to sleep in when you’re with me…”

 

“Maybe…” suggested Alex, pushing herself up into a more upright position, leaning towards Olivia, “…but that’s not necessarily my fault…”

 

“You mean you find me irresistible?” teased Olivia, enjoying Alex’s confidence and willingness to be flirtatious in their new surroundings.

 

“Or maybe, it means you don’t let me go out to wild parties anymore…”

 

“Wild parties?” asked Olivia, surprised. Whilst she was fully conversant in the wild party aspect of the college experience, she certainly hadn’t pegged Alexandra Cabot for it.

 

“I learnt the best way to not have a hangover was sleep through it…”

 

“You mean pass out?”

 

“No, just sleep until the hangover had worn off…” corrected Alex, raising an eyebrow in challenge, daring Olivia to correct her again. It was a point of family pride – Cabots did not pass out, but they did sleep off hangovers.

 

“And that was the last time you’d slept this late?” asked Olivia, recognising when a strategic retreat was best.

 

“Yes…”

 

“Some party…” conceded Olivia, impressed.

 

“It was…” agreed Alex, recalling some fond memories.

 

“You can remember what it was?”

 

“Sure…Men’s Basketball team blowout when they won the Ivy League…”

 

“You hung out with the men’s basketball team?” Somehow, Olivia couldn’t picture Alex being a groupie for the men’s basketball team…and anyway, hadn’t she said she played tennis in college?

 

“Not exactly…” began Alex, only to remember another side affect of sleeping 12 hours straight, prompting her to kick Olivia none-too-gently in her haste to get out of bed.

 

“Hey!” protested Olivia as she rolled over onto her side, a casualty of Alex’s sprint to the bathroom.

 

“Sorry!” The apology was shouted as the bathroom door slammed behind Alex.

 

* * *

 

 

“Here…” offered Olivia, holding out the mug of freshly brewed coffee.

 

“Thanks.” Smiling in appreciation, Alex took the mug and held it close to her face, savouring the feeling of the warm steam rushing past her nose, contrasting with the cool dampness of her hair, wet from her shower. Seeing Alex in one of the complimentary fluffy bathrobes reminded Olivia of a question she’d been meaning to ask Alex since check-in.

 

“You any idea how we got this place?”

 

“You mean a suite?” clarified Alex, imagining she could feel the kick of the caffeine as she drank her coffee.

 

“A suite, in such a nice place…it’s not exactly ‘Motel 6’…”

 

“A little negotiation…and pooling of resources…” explained Alex obliquely.

 

“You did a number on Donnelly?” guessed Olivia, earning her a wry look from Alex.

 

“Actually, Donnelly did a number on Branch – advised him that it would make the most sense to pool the NYPD and DA travel budgets and use them to make a single reservation somewhere comfortable.”

 

“I was wondering about the suite…” Truthfully, when they’d checked in, Olivia had been so focussed on not falling over her newly acquired cane or bashing her knee with her case that she’d failed to pay much attention to the process, merely signing when instructed, trusting Alex to ensure they weren’t being short changed.

 

“It seemed that there is actually a contract deal for this chain at City Hall…the budgets for our expenses were transferred to City Hall and offset against the cost of a very nice room for two…” elaborated Alex, wearing what could only be described as a ‘shit-eating’ grin.

 

“And you wonder why I let you do all the organising?” retorted Olivia playfully.

 

“Hmm…” For a brief moment, Alex was reminded of a time right after her return from Witness Protection, when Olivia had indeed, let Alex organise everything, including their apartment, but she decided not to dwell on it – it all felt a long time ago now, longer than the couple of years that it actually was, but that wasn’t a bad thing. Conscious of the way her lover’s thoughts had turned, mentally kicking herself for letting their conversation drift down such a route, Olivia restarted an earlier topic.

 

“So, men’s basketball…should I be worried?”

 

“You mean do I have hidden cravings for taller partners?”

 

“I can wear heels…” She knew she shouldn’t try to best Alex at snappy retorts, but it didn’t stop her trying…

 

“Not without complaining you can’t…”

 

“So why’d you pass out after the men’s basketball team blowout?” It was the conversational equivalent of sticking her tongue out, and Olivia knew that Alex knew it, even without seeing the amused sparkle in Alex’s eyes.

 

“Because I drank too much?” suggested Alex, draining her coffee and settling into the couch, feeling sufficiently refreshed by the ‘holy trinity’ of sleep, hot water and caffeine to engage in yet another game of ‘Who’s the better questioner’ – they’d declared the game an honorary tie years ago, but both secretly (or not so secretly at times) harboured a professional desire not to be beaten by the other: it just wasn’t done.

 

“Smart-ass…” Recognising the game, Olivia perched on the edge of the couch, considering her next question carefully – she didn’t want to concede defeat a second time too quickly.

 

“I presume you were at the party at the invitation of one of the players, so why’d you accept it?” Smiling in satisfaction at the quality of her question, Olivia waited to see how Alex rose to the challenge. Unfortunately, Olivia had left herself open to a very easy defence by Alex.

 

“It would have been rude to decline…”

 

“Alex!” Frustrated, Olivia slipped from the arm of the couch down onto the seat proper, resigned to conceding defeat – this time.

 

“Danny Schwab was in my Roman Law class and on a full basketball scholarship. He used to miss the first 15 minutes of the Tuesday morning lecture due to training so was constantly confused. I tutored him on Friday mornings before he went off for matches over the weekend.”

 

“And he took you to the basketball party, as a date?”

 

“As a friend…he also tutored me in basketball, and how to abuse a referee…” admitted Alex shyly, remembering the first time she’d watched Thanksgiving Football with Olivia – what Alex didn’t know in rules she certainly over-compensated for with a varied and commanding grasp of the English Language and an unerring ability to read people honed from years of cross-examination.

 

“Tutored you in basketball?”

 

“We used to go watch the women’s team practices on a Tuesday afternoon…”

 

“Ah, so, not a boyfriend then…”

 

“Heavens no, we both had a thing for point guards…”

 

“You act on it?” asked Olivia, intrigued. It wasn’t often that Alex opened up about her time at Harvard, and it wasn’t something that bothered Olivia enough to make a point to find out about it, except when it came up in conversation like now.

 

“Of course not!”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I…” Alex paused as she considered what their reasons were at the time, “…it seems so silly now…”

 

“You were afraid of being outed?” guessed Olivia, shuffling along the couch so Alex could snuggle up against her, making both ladies feel better.

 

“Seems silly now…” repeated Alex, remembering the pages of newsprint devoted to their sex life, pages that she had been reminded last night, were now permanently stored for anyone who knew her name to look up on the internet.

 

“Do you know what Danny does now?” asked Olivia, having a hunch.

 

“Actually, I do – he’s an attorney…for PFLAG.”

 

“Very silly…” agreed Olivia, dropping a kiss on her lover’s head, “…but I know it made sense at the time…”

 


	12. Chapter 2 - part 5 (CSI)

“Cases…” announced Sara, entering the break room at ten past eight on Saturday night.

“We got some?” asked Nick, relieved finally to have a busy night. Whilst he didn’t like to be overworked every night, there were only so many shifts you could do paperwork through.

“Too many…Catherine – sudden death at a high roller table, and the girl he left behind in his bed…” began Sara, passing the two slips across.

“They’re connected?”

“I just had them check – she’s in his hotel room…on scene PD say it looks like drugs gone wrong…”

“But I do the high-roller first?” guessed Catherine, all too familiar with casino politics.

“Apparently he’s making the place look untidy…” agreed Sara, before refocusing her attention on the slips. Recognising the dismissal, Catherine headed for the door calling out,

“Later, guys” as she went, unwilling to wait to see what else was on tonight in case she ended up sharing her scenes.

“Nick, another frat party…”

“Tis the season…” agreed the Texan, scanning the slip, “…oh Man, not again…”

“What’s up?” asked Warrick, intrigued.

“DB in the pool…I went swimming last time…”

“And you did it so well…” complimented Sara insincerely before continuing with her three remaining slips.

“Greg…”

“Yes Sara?”

“How much sleep have you had?”

“Eight hours…” he admitted, ignoring his friends and instead looking straight at Sara, somehow glad he’d actually done nothing but sleep and eat between shifts.

“Elderly lady dead in the home…”

“Natural causes?”

“Doctor and sheriff didn’t think so…spent a while thinking about it; apparently…” Sara paused to consult her notes, “…it feels funny…”

“Feels funny?”

“Sheriff’s never had a suspicious death, wants someone sent out…”

“Sent out where?”

“Treepoint…it’s about two hours away. Brass is sending out Marty Platin as a ride along, seems he knows the town and might be able to help…” began Sara, mentioning one of the uniformed officers who she knew to be calm and experienced.

“I know Marty…” agreed Greg, getting to his feet enthusiastically.

"I'm going on my own?' asked Greg, suddenly nervous.

"Sounds like a good case Greg..." encouraged Warrick kindly, knowing how good Sara had become at reading cases and matching them to CSIs.

"It isn't wheelchair tracks..." reminded Sara, holding out the slip, reminding him of the discussion they'd had a couple of weeks ago. She'd promised him then he'd get an out-of-town case if it was right for him and now seemed ideal - in all likelihood it would be natural causes but if it wasn't he had a supportive local Sheriff and doctor and Officer Platin, picked for his experience...and the fact that this was his home town...

"I can call you?"

"Sure...I wanna know what it's like..." agreed Sara, totally confident he'd do fine.

"You bet!" And, with a spring in his step, Greg too headed out for his shift, Nick heading out with him, offering genuine support.

"Saving the best 'til last?" asked Warrick curiously.

"Maybe...or it may be nothing..." admitted Sara, passing across the slip.

"Gun shot victim in an alley?" Respecting his friend and boss, Warrick managed to keep the disappointment out of his voice just enough, although he couldn't stop himself from sounding surprised. Compared to all the other cases so far tonight it sounded, well, small.

"That was where the victim was found..."

"But they were shot somewhere else?"

"Yes."

"Where?" Sara's look in response to Warrick's question could best be explained by the phrase 'if I knew that you wouldn't be needed.'

"Sorry...so I'm trying to find the crime scene?"

"Yeah...hotel security cameras in the alley show the victim falling down off the fire escape..."

"So I need to find out how he got on the fire escape..." concluded Warrick thoughtfully, suddenly liking this case rather more than he had been a minute before.

"Exactly..."

"What's the final slip?" he asked, pushing to his feet.

"My case..."

"I thought you had the New York evidence..."

"I do, it still needs a slip…" explained Sara simply, preparing to head back to her office to finish the paperwork for the night so far.

"You need a hand?" asked Warrick, suddenly wondering why Sara hadn't mentioned the details of her cold case before.

"I'm good...I’ll be out later.”

“Showing the sights to our guests?”

“Tourism CSI style…” agreed Sara, tossing her files in her lap along with her travel mug of coffee before setting off back to her desk, hoping no more cases came in tonight…


End file.
